


The Subtle Scent of Silver

by Alois_Zirconia



Series: Complete Alois Zirconia Collection [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, General Mysteriousness, Hand Jobs, don't ask me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 11:33:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4959025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alois_Zirconia/pseuds/Alois_Zirconia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I got this up fast, so tell me if you see any mistakes. It's one of my most - well, refined works in this series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Subtle Scent of Silver

Where am I?

The thought tumbles into my head, unbidden, and I look around. There is a lingering scent of silver in the air, barely a trace. Tall, metallic walls rise up around me, stretching to catch the borders of the sky. Instead, they disappear in a bright white mist, casting light over the room I'm in. I sit up on the white, hard - ground? stone? floor? - I woke up on, and look at the tall, glittering form in front of me.

It is the tall form of a androgynous woman, recognized only for Her small, pert breasts, and the soft lines of Her face. Her dark hair is cut short, and Her caramel skin seems to radiate a certain glow, that reminds me of the nightlight I had by my bed at the tender age of four. She is barely covered by a clingy fabric that shifts color subtly, glittering with the colors of a diamond. The color of the dress itself is unknown to my eyes.

She is sitting on a low-backed couch, the kind you see in movies. The floor seems to grow and stretch upwards to become the feet of the couch, which is dark red velvet. The whiteness of the floor morphs like a tree, twisting and turning at random intervals, while the velvet seems impossibly soft, not like the kind that rubs you wrong. I look behind me, and there is a similar couch, but it is smaller, and does not look soft at all. In a trancelike state, I feel myself sitting down. I was right. It is not nearly as soft as Hers looks.

A white form that seems to blend in with the floor and mist above lies behind Her. It lies carelessly, draped over Her lap, and seems to be human-shaped. She looks at me, and Her irises are so dark they seem to blend in with Her pupil. She opens Her mouth, and starts speaking, but Her voice takes seconds to reach me. "You ̢are he̸re͘, ͟Al̛any͠a, ̛be̴cau͢se yo͢u t͜o͘o̷k t͘he̶ ͝invi̕tatio͏n.̧ I̕ h͠ave ͝wa̶it̴ed, and n̶ow ̸I s͠h̢a̧l͡l ̕w̛a͢it no͝ m͜or̡e͘. You͝ k͝no̡w̡ ͏w͢h̸o I a̶m.͘ ̵Y̧ou ͠c͟a͟n." She lowered Her hands, who had been clasped in front of Her chest, onto the pale body before Her. "I ͏h͟a̵ve ̶ćhan͝g̸e̴d ̡my̶ fo̕r͝m͜ f́or ̕you̵r ŗe̢c͠o̶gnít̢io̶n, ańd ̛y͟ou ͢shall l̵ist͟eń.͜"̶

Her hands started stroking the body, and as it turned restlessly -for it seemed to be asleep- I could see male genitalia resting between his thighs. It was portioned to his size, and was a darker shade than the rest of him, tinted a dusty pink. "I̸ do̡ not͜ ̶o͠f͏ten ma̡ke̷ ̡e̶x̕c͏ep̕ţi͠on̷s̡ f̴or̵ m̀o͝r͡t̴a͏l̛s͘,͏ m͝o̸s͝tly bȩc͡ąus͞e̴ ͝th̶e̛y̷ do̧ n̢o̧t ̡und̵e͘rs͏tand ͡th̸e̵ ҉i͢m͜p͜òrta̕ńc҉ȩ of mỳ ̡ŗeìg͠ń." She looks at me emptily, stroking his pale, soft belly.

Suddenly, he wakes, and carefully arranges himself in a straddling position, his hands gliding down Her shimmering dress and disappearing between the folds. He nuzzles Her neck, baring his own like one would offer a gift. Then he tilts his head, slowly, his hips grinding down on Her lap.

She doesn't look away as Her hands glide down between them, and with careless strength She lies him on his back across Her lap, his head coming to rest upon one of the velvet pillows arranged carefully around Her. His hair, cut so it ends above his shoulders, gently fans out over the dark red, a bright contrast to the velvet.

"He͢ ͞i̸s ̶gone̵." The words seem to echo, thrashing about in the fragile cage of my mind. "I ̸h͝a͘ve pun̵is͢he͢d̸ ̶hi͜m̨ ̨su̧f҉ficie͝ntl̵y̸, a̡n͡d͝ so͜ h͠e͞ s̡h͢all̵ ҉not҉ r͝et҉ur̀n." As She says these words, Her hands start gently stroking him, as he lies prostate at Her mercy.

Her movements are gentle, and She portrays Her care for him in Her stroking of his thighs. One of his legs are drawn upwards by Her hand, and she admires his body with Her slender hands for a couple of minutes. Brushing, stroking, everywhere. His feminine pale body squirms under Her ministrations, and his eyes close as his brows frown. I feel the urge to reach forward and smooth out that perilous wrinkle, and only the dragging of velvet against my thighs alert me to the fact that I moved.

Her hands stop, his eyes crack open, and She stares at me silently for what feels like hours. Her dark eyes have no white, only the gentle twinkling of stars in the consuming blackness of the universe in Her eyes. Time drags on, and Her lips move, softly. I wait.  
Her whispered words eventually reach my ears, and She looks down. They continue, while I sit, motionless. The far-away walls glint sliver.

"Th̛e͠re҉ ͠i̵s҉ ̧n̴o̴ sh́áme in͡ l͢ust.́" Her hands have reached his hips, and one hand presses down on his hipbone while the other ensconces his penis. She starts stroking, while looking at his face, and it takes a while before his moaning reaches my ears. It sounds wanton and lustrous, and She bends down to whisper in his ear. The glimmering dress slips of Her silky shoulder, and I can see Her breasts as the dress rides further down. Her hand goes faster, and I can clearly see his chest rising from his panting. She tugs a little harder, his back arches and he covers his mouth with the back of his hand as he cries out-

I look away, blushing fiercely. The silver smell seems more intense now, forcing itself on my senses. It surely must be wrong of me to think like this, the same perversion i felt for my brother welling up inside my chest, like a tap left running. I hear his panting, and the rustle of fabric. When I look up, he has tilted his body towards me, still lying across her lap and openly displaying his softening genitalia. There is no shame in his actions, for he is not human, and he bends his head to press soft kisses to the inside of her right arm, to my left side. Nothing is said as he shows Her his humble love.

He looks up from Her arm, and pauses in his gentle kisses. He meets my eyes, and slowly, seductively licks his lips moist. His neck-cut white hair perfectly frames his face, and the soft lines of his face perfectly matches Hers. Had I not seen the intimate act just before, I would easily be fooled into thinking he was female. But with the sheer blinding beauty of his face, his eyes seem to laugh as I realize.

I harshly breathe in the now heavy air, tinged with the scent of silver.

 

My dearest Alois..

**Author's Note:**

> \- You are here, Alanya, because you took the invitation. I have waited, and now I shall wait no more. You know who I am. You can.
> 
> \- I have changed my form for your recognition, and you shall listen.
> 
> \- I do not often make exceptions for you, mostly because you do not understand my importance.
> 
> \- He is gone. I have punished him sufficiently, and so he shall not return.
> 
> \- There is no shame in lust.
> 
> Did you catch the clues?


End file.
